by Jayne Blue
“You’re safe now,” he said, smoothing my hair back. “I swear to God. Come on, I know just what you need.”
We walked arm and arm through the house and out the back door. Mitch had a covered porch with deck chairs facing the river. A huge weeping willow framed the view as the late afternoon sun slashed pink across the sky. He led me to one of the deck chairs. I nearly collapsed into it. Mitch went back into the house. When he came back, he held two bottles of beer in one hand.
“Thanks,” I said, my hands still shaking as he tossed me one. I twisted the cap and practically chugged half the contents.
“Easy.” Mitch laughed as he sat down next to me and propped his feet up on the empty chair next to his. “Pace yourself. I went in and ordered from Yin’s. I remember how much you like their almond chicken. It’ll be here soon and you probably skipped lunch, didn’t you?”
I wiped my lips with the back of my hand. He was right. I was starving. On an empty stomach it probably wasn’t the best choice to start kicking back beers, but God, it felt good. “You got a few more of these? I sort of feel like making the world go away.”
He peeled at the gold label on the neck of his bottle then took a swig. Then he tilted his bottle toward mine and we clinked them together. “You’ll be fine,” he said. “Just a little shell shock. You’ve had a rough couple of days.”
I nodded. “What about Phil, though? Do you think he’s in any danger?”
“No. But Walling and Smalls are going to stay close by for at least the next couple of days, just to be safe. I convinced his doctor to move him to a different floor.”
“Ah. And I take it he wasn’t too happy about that. Is that why he looked ready to stab you when I walked up?”
Mitch shrugged. “He’ll get over it. How is he though? Your neighbor’s father, I mean. Do they think he’ll pull through?”
“Hopefully. His son seems to think he’s just stubborn enough to make it. But he’s got a long road ahead of him. I just wish I could do more.”
“Well, I talked to the son for a little bit. He just wants to make sure you stay safe. And you will.”
I wondered what else Young Phil and Mitch talked about. I looked at Mitch in profile. A muscle jumped in his strong jaw as he stared out at the water. I still saw enough of the fresh-faced college kid I first met. He still had the same fire in his eyes, the same intensity in his stare as if he could bend the world to his will with just a glance. He’d always seemed to feel everything so much harder than the rest of us.
I still remembered the night Brian burst into my dorm room to tell me he was going to join the Police Academy right after graduation. Mitch hung back, leaning against the doorframe. Brian was exuberant, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Big goofy grin. Mitch had been stoic. When Brian said he was joining too, I almost didn’t believe it. In that moment, I worried more about how it would impact Mitch instead of Brian. Brian was simpler in a way. He wasn’t the brooding thinker Mitch could be. Nothing ever seemed to touch Brian, he didn’t dwell on things. But Mitch? He had more darkness in him and I worried then about how much harder it would be for him to find the light after a few years of seeing nothing but the worst of people.
“He was so angry,” I said, not meaning to do it out loud.
“The old man’s son? I didn’t think so?”
“What? Oh. No. I was just thinking about you and Brian for a second. I’m sorry, my head is everywhere these days.”
Mitch went very still. Eons seemed to pass before he took his next breath. Then he raised his beer to his lips and took a long drink. “Angry about what?”
“When you made detective. You know, I’ve never told you that although I assume you were already aware. Brian wasn’t very good at hiding how he felt about anything. It’s just … it wasn’t fair. We should have thrown a party for you. At least taken you out to dinner. And we didn’t because I had to manage Brian’s feelings. So I’m sorry about that. He was supposed to be your best friend. And he was. But that doesn’t mean he was always the best friend, you know? If no one’s ever told you, I’m proud of you. For everything you’ve accomplished in the department. It’s a big deal whether you like to hear it or not.”
Mitch dropped his head. “Thanks.” Such a simple word. One I hadn’t expected him to say. It made me regret letting Brian’s hurt feelings cloud Mitch’s accomplishments all the more.
“And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner what was going on with him,” Mitch said, turning to me. Acid seemed to fill my lungs when I took my next breath. So I pushed those decades-old memories far down, like I always did. We had enough to worry about in the present. Mitch seemed to understand my thoughts without me having to express them. He took my hand in his and ran his thumb over my palm.
“Oh God. Mitch. When is this going to be over?” It was easier to talk about today’s worries, and they were legion. Poor Old Phil. Everything Young Phil told me about his prognosis ate at me. “I can’t live like this. I didn’t do anything wrong. It was one thing to just have my life upended and my job prospects taken away. Now there’s actually some crackpot out there who thinks, what, I’m the one who stole all his drug money? How in the hell are we ever going to fix something like that? When are the people I care about going to stop getting hurt around me?”
Mitch set his beer down. “I know it sounds bad when you say it all like that. And it is. But I’m going to need you to trust me when I tell you we’re very close to putting all of this to rest. You’re going to get your life back, Stella. I’m going to make sure of it. I intend to start living up to the promises I’ve made you. All of them.”
A heavy silence settled between us. The breeze kicked up, swaying the branches of the willow tree in front of us. In the distance, cicadas whirred to life. The sound of late summer. It was my fault, like so much of it. I’d called forth the ghost that lived between us. But I’d spent so much time and energy trying to run from it. I just couldn’t do it anymore. At least, not then.
“I’m not sorry,” I said. Well, more truthfully I blurted it. But I knew Mitch. I knew that other than working on my case, he probably spent his day in mental self-flagellation over what we shared last night. “And you shouldn’t be either.”
Mitch let out a bitter laugh and downed the last of his beer. “This is at least a two-beer conversation. You out?”
I handed him my empty. “I am indeed.” He took it, got up, and brought me back another bottle. The second beer would have me buzzed for sure. I wanted to be, at least a little. He was gone a little longer than he should be. When he came back, he carried the beers in one hand, and a brown paper bag in the other. My stomach growled as the smell of food hit me. Mitch set the bag between us. I reached in and took out the white cardboard box labeled with my food and opened the wooden chopsticks.
“Thanks,” I said, my mouth full. God, it tasted like heaven. I swear I was getting drunk off the food and the beer.
“Eat up, there’s plenty.”
“I mean it,” I said, turning the conversation back as Mitch twisted the cap off his bottle and stabbed an egg roll with his one of his chopsticks. “I know you, remember? Since before you could get these legally, pal.” I waved my beer bottle at him. “I know that look on your face, and I know how you get when you’re torturing yourself. And I’m telling you not to.”
“Oh yeah?” he said. He put up a fist and feigned a jab at my chin. “What are you going to do about it, punk?”
I clamped my hand over his fist and brought it down. “No regrets. No more living in the past for either of us.” I said it as much to myself as to him and knew I wasn’t very convincing.
“You sound like my shrink,” he said, hissing after he just finished another long draught from his beer. He ate another egg roll then polished off his shrimp fried rice. For as long as I’d known him, it was the only Chinese meal he’d eat.
“Your shrink? Wow, Gates. I’m impressed. How very evolved of you.”
Mitch laughed. His eyes twinkled wi
th some secret. I nudged him in the shoulder.
“I was kind of forced into it,” he said. “It was either that or be suspended.”
I shook my head and laughed. “Good God, Mitch. I’m not even sure I want to know.”
“It was Pierce,” he said. “And he had it coming. Let’s just say I expressed my opinion to him in a less-than-diplomatic way. So Stan thought I might benefit from some anger management training.”
I did a literal spit take. “Pierce? You mean that asshole judge from Brian’s trial? Wow. Did you hit him? Please tell me you hit him.”
Mitch shook his head. “For all the trouble they’ve put me through, I kind of wished I had now.”
Finished with my meal, I set the box on the ground then I drew my legs up and rested my chin on my knees. “Is it wrong of me to kind of wish you had too? Can’t say I haven’t fantasized about doing something just like that for years. You know that punk kid who shot Brian has his first parole hearing in two years? Brian’s dad wants me to go to it with him. I’m dreading it. It’s going to be worse than this blasted memorial in a few days.”
“I know.” Mitch’s face took on a grim expression I’d seen far too many times. It was the face he made when he wanted to hide his thoughts. It never worked with me. I turned to him.
“So, what else do you talk to your shrink about? Is that where you went this morning?”
Mitch’s eyes went wide. “How did you know?”
“I heard you on the phone when you thought I was asleep on your lap. You were making an appointment with what I thought was a doctor. Was it about me? Is that why you were in such a hurry to see him?”
Mitch chewed his bottom lip then took another drink. “I just wanted to try and get a little clarity. I tend to do stupid things when I’m not thinking straight.”
“And was last night what you’d classify as a stupid thing?” I was afraid to breathe. Any moment, and stoic Mitch might come back. Then there wouldn’t be enough beer and egg rolls in the world to loosen him back up again.
Mitch’s face went white. He turned to me and took my hand in his. “No. Stella, no. Not stupid. But not smart either.”
I nodded and looked back out at the water. No. It wasn’t smart. We were both raw from the trauma of what happened to me. I couldn’t sit here and pretend I hadn’t thought about what it would feel like to be with Mitch like that. Of course I had. And I knew he had too. There had been a moment or two so many years ago when it might have happened for us. But our timing had never been right. And then there was Brian.
“So.” I turned back to face him, resting my cheekbone on my knee. “What did your shrink say?”
Mitch’s sly smile sent heat shooting through me. “He said I never do anything in moderation or take things slow.”
I couldn’t help it. That got a genuine laugh out of me. “How much are you paying this guy?”
“More than he’s worth, that’s for sure.”
“Oh no.” I snorted then covered my mouth with my hand. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t laugh. It’s just I could have told you that for free.”
“He said you’re another symptom of that. The first chance I got alone with you, well …”
My laughter died in my throat. That heavy stillness rose between us and my heart started to pound. “Is that what I am, a symptom of your neurosis?” It wasn’t fair to ask. Because I didn’t know how to define what Mitch was to me either.
“Stella, stop. You know that’s not it.”
“I know,” I said, shifting in my chair so I faced him. The easy thing, the safe thing to do would have been to get up, say goodnight, and head on up the stairs. But it’s the last thing I wanted to do. I could blame it on the makings of a solid buzz from the alcohol. It was that, but it wasn’t. This felt good. Sitting out here with Mitch, talking about things we’d avoided for most of our adult lives: in a way it felt more intimate than the kitchen floor. I realized I craved that from him as much as his body. But oh, I did crave his body again. It flared within me, making it hard to think straight.
“Did he say having sex with me was a bad idea?” I asked. Again, I knew it wasn’t fair to force the issue. But Mitch and I had spent so much of the last ten years trying to be strong for each other, I just didn’t have the energy to do it tonight. Not now. Not after everything that had happened.
Mitch cocked his head to the side. He stared at a point just beyond me. “Not in so many words.”
“And what do you think? What do you want, Mitch?”
His eyes flashed fire as he trained them on me. It was a bold question and I shouldn’t have asked that one either. But dammit, I wanted to know. It was a dare. My breath hitched and my breasts rose and fell as I tried to calm the pounding of my heart. Mitch moved slowly; sliding off his chair he went to his knees in front of me. He slid his hands up my thighs and looked up at me, the flicker in his eyes showing the perfect combination of lust and trepidation.
“You,” he finally said, his voice barely more than a whisper.
“He’s right, though, your shrink. This is probably a very bad idea. Things are intense for both of us right now. We should be rational.”
“Yep.” He started to pull away but I put my hands on his forearms, stilling him.
Mitch’s shrink told him he couldn’t do anything in moderation. But in that instant, I was the one who wanted everything all at once. A dam burst inside me; emotions and desire poured through me. I couldn’t turn the clock back twenty-four hours. I felt like I might drown if I tried.
Molten desire flooded my veins as he looked up at me. I stood up. Mitch stayed on his knees. I pulled him close to me, as he pressed his cheek against my stomach. I laced my fingers through his thick, brown hair, smoothing down the cowlick in front. Then I hooked my finger beneath his chin and forced him to look up at me. I ached for him. Breathed for him in that moment. With just one word, the answer to my question, he undid me yet again.
“I want you,” I whispered. “And it’s a horrible idea. But maybe we can just care about that part tomorrow.”
A slow, sultry smile lifted the corners of Mitch’s mouth. He wrapped his arms around my upper thighs, gripping just below my ass. Then he stood up and lifted me off my feet with an agile, fluid movement that made me squeal. He set me down and we stood there, the air charged between us.
This wasn’t like last night. We weren’t swept up in anything. Yes, at least for me, the alcohol played a part, but only a little. I was drunk all right, but not from the beer. I pressed my hands against his chest as he traced his thumb along my hairline, then parted my lips. I closed my eyes and ran my tongue along the pad of his thumb, sucking it until he groaned. When I opened my eyes again, his shone with primal need. An answering heat flared within me. A bomb could have gone off beside us and I wouldn’t have been able to move or change my course.
Yes. We stood there with our eyes open and every chance to stop or walk away. But neither of us did. Instead, I took a step back and slid the straps of my dress over my shoulders, letting it fall to the ground and pool at my feet. Mitch slipped out of his jacket and loosened his tie.
I wanted this more than anything. And it was perfect. With the sun setting over the river, it was as if we were the only two people in the world. Mitch lived on a small peninsula with no neighbors that could see what we were about to do. He peeled off his shirt and unfastened his fly. When he stepped out of his pants, his turgid erection pulsed beneath his boxer briefs.
I unhooked my bra and stepped out of my panties. I stood before him, stark naked as the sky blazed pink. It seemed as though the water might sizzle if we listened close enough when the sun finally dipped below the horizon. Then I dropped to my knees and slid my hands around his buttocks. I peeled off his briefs and looked up at him. He was huge and hard and all for me. This was a dare. I grew bolder as Mitch’s eyes flamed. I knew him. I knew last night he probably thought he was the one who could have stopped it. This time, I wanted to take control and chase his doubts away.
I wanted this. I wanted him. And I wouldn’t be denied.
Yes. This was a bad idea. I knew it and so did he. But I meant what I said. We could worry about it all tomorrow. For now, my skin flared hot and I grew even bolder. Mitch threw his head back as I took him into my mouth and sucked him for all I was worth.
“Oh God. Stella!” Mitch carved his fingers into my hair. His legs trembled as I settled into a rhythm that made him moan. I pressed my hands against his buttocks and pulled him deeper into me. He was huge and hot and I relished the pleasure I gave him. It turned me into liquid heat. Moisture pooled between my thighs. I was on fire for him.
Mitch reached down and cupped one breast with his hand. My nipple rose to a peak instantly. Aching pleasure filled me as I kept up the pace and drew him even deeper into my throat.
This was raw and primal, wanton desire. Everything else fell away and the world became Mitch and me as I serviced him on my knees. Desire turned me wild and I relished it.
“Stella,” he whispered. “I can’t hold back.”
I answered by sucking him even harder. I wanted him. Wanted this. Mitch’s breath went ragged as he tried to control himself. I loved that I could make him come unspooled. He needed it as much as I did.
He let out a juddering gasp and his buttocks went rigid beneath my palms. One stroke, two. He whispered my name again, then let go. I took him. All of him. He poured himself into me and I let him. I kept going, letting him spend himself completely as I lavished his cock, swallowing every drop. On and on he came. Mitch let out a primal growl that sent heat shooting through me. I nearly doubled over as my own desire began to overpower me.
Finally, Mitch leaned over and hooked his hands beneath my elbows then drew me to my feet. His eyes still hooded with lust, he picked me up with dizzying strength and carried me back into the house. He kicked the door open to his bedroom and lay me down on the bed. My hair fanned around me as Mitch went to his knees. He put firm but gentle hands on my thighs and spread me wide. I’d unleashed something in him out by the water, now he meant to do the same to me.